That's My Seat !!

19:15 Hours : My car screeches to a halt outside Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose Airport. Shucks.. The heat has deprived me of two liters of water and even a pig would smell better. The driver hands me the requisition slip and like a dutiful manager I fill out all the details like closing km, time etc etc. I get out of the car and survey the departure area. Not much of a crowd.

19:16 Hours : My body is craving for nicotine. I take out my packet and light the cigarette. Before my car speeds away I flick the matchbox back to my driver to save myself the embarrassment of having to fish out the inflammable item at the security check in. As I take a long drag, I see a No-Smoking sign – Do I stub out my cigarette? No way .. I join the gang of ten other offenders who are desperately puffing away.

19:19 Hours: A yellow cab halts in front of me. And out comes a cute looking girl – and the predatory male in me starts surveying his prey. Hmmm.. nice figure, good sense of dressing and a great perfume. But then I belong to the race of those shameful losers in their mid twenties who like starry eyed teenagers keep gawking at girls. I look the other way and send a silent prayer to the heavens –“ God forgive me for all those sins that I have committed. Can I get to sit beside her in the flight? “

19:21 hours: A smart looking fellow asks me if I am taking the Jet flight. I say yes. And then he whips out his hand held terminal, punches a few keys and asks which seat I want ? Suddenly that girl appears .. and I see her proceeding towards the counter .. Shit, I should have been at the counter ..The only Jet flight that’s going to take off in the next hour is the Mumbai one … I would have heard which seat she was taking and then ….. What the hell … I think I am the world’s greatest sinner .. - . I look at the guy -- why the fuck did you have to see me ? Well, my brain is working over time and is on the verge of over heating – and then he says –“Sir, which seat do you want? “ .. I want to chop off your head … Then I do some quick calculations – hmmm.. girls usually like window seats – gazing at the city lights and squealing in delight .. I decide to confront the laws of probability once and for all … and I say “ Middle Seat” – “ But Sir – I have aisle seats – 10C “ – “ Middle seat” .. I say firmly. Probably this is the last time he would see a passenger taking a middle seat so easily .. he gives me the boarding pass. – 10E

19:35 hours: I have never prayed so fervently. Even the Gods are being stirred from their yogic sleep. Like a hawk I scan the waiting area and Voila !! I zero in onto my prey. She’s beautiful .. a mole on the upper lip .. I am going weak in my knees. And she’s reading “The 3 Mistakes of my life “. I feel like walking up to her and telling her – “Ma’m I just made the first mistake .. I should have checked in at the counter.” Hmmm… I am planning my move. I’ll take a cup of coffee and sit beside her and then start off a conversation. In a few minutes I shall have enamored her with my charms and got her mobile number. She looks distinctly Bong. Petite .. Hmmm.. Have I finally found my match?

19:38 hours: The waiting area is sparsely populated. What will she think if I go and sit beside her? And a voice inside me says .. Abe hero .. chance to le…
In twenty seconds I am sitting beside her. She does not even look at me. She’s engrossed in the book – Page 43. No ring – Good. And then that weird mobile blares the Airtel tune .. and she’s whispering into the phone. I want to snatch that mobile and throw it into the dustbin.

19:45 hours: Time’s running out. The call ends. My cup’s empty and I am going to make the first move. And then that sound Beep Beep – Beep Beep. THE SMS. And she’s smiling. I am going to cut off the fingers of the guy who’s SMSing her.

20:00 hours: I have given up. With my tail between my legs I walk to the security check in area. Thankfully the metal detector does not detect anything alarming. Thud Thud … The security guy stamps my boarding pass and deems me fit to board the plane.

20:10 hours: I am among the first passengers to board the flight. I am on 10E. And I am grumpy. I sit like a school kid who has not been given his daily quota of candy bars. There is a steady stream of passengers. And then I spot her… She’s walking towards me.. I wait with bated breath. And I am again praying. She has come close and then she gives me a nice smile – no girl has ever smiled at me like that – ‘Hi ! I think you are sitting on the wrong seat. “I have gone blank. I am staring at her.. Gosh ! She’s beautiful .. “ Helloooo…” I am back to my senses. This is the moment to floor her. I fish out my boarding pass and show it to her. “But 10E is mine.” She smiles at me. “ That’s fine… But you are sitting on 10B ! That’s my seat !” I look up at the seat indicators … She’s right .. And the world comes crashing down ! I smile sheepishly at her .. pick up my tail and sit on 10E. I am still shocked. And then the killer .. There comes a handsome dude .. sits on 10C and before I can blink my eyes he’s started talking to her… Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr….. Now I want to kill him.

20:15 hours: I am praying to ghost of H.G Wells asking for a time machine. I should have taken 10C. Me and my smart brain. Probability theory – trash it. I look to my left. They are talking like long lost friends… I close my eyes and slap myself a hundred times. Me and my fate.

( This work of “art” is dedicated to all those males who scan the railway reservation charts looking for any F 23’s sitting near their seats. This is also dedicated to souls who are JP Platinum Card holders and yet when they enter the airport they have only one prayer on their lips .. “ God. Forgive me for my sins. Can I get to sit beside a nice girl ??? “ )

911

8:55 AM : Munch Munch Munch .... If you were to look at me having breafast on a weekday you would think that I had just come from Somalia. The speed with which I am eating is faster than those souls who taste food after months of fasting. That seconds hand on my watch is moving too fast .. and why does it move slowly when I am in office.. What the heck.. I need to get it repaired !!
8:57 AM : The speed's doubled ... Newton's Laws of Motion in full flow -- Chomp Chomp Chomp .. I pick up the steel tumbler and guzzle half a litre of water in one go !! That should wash away everything in my throat. Well, even the flush is more efficient.
I polish off my plate and look at the roti with eager eyes .. Even the stray dogs are not so greedy. Anyway, I decide to end my breakfast with a wee bit of hunger still left.
8:59 AM: I am going to buy a pair of slip ons. It will save me 30 seconds of precious time. And yes, I need to polish my shoes or they are going to be hired by one of those shoe shine companies as exemplars to test the effectiveness of their shoe creams.
9:01 AM: Four yellow taxis all lined up ... Bastards ! When you need them the most they are not there. I am not going to spend the money on them today. Huff! Puff! Huff! Keep walking mister… with the 5 kg laptop hanging on my shoulders I look like a special forces commando. The difference is that under that weight my back has bent like a bow!
9:03 AM: I pass the cigarette shop. No No No … I am going to be clean. Hmmm.. Even Adam and Eve could not resist the lure of apple, and I was not even created by God. One stick’s not going to make a difference. I go to the shopkeeper, buy the stick and dutifully go to that jute rope coiled around a nail that’s been hammered into an old tree .. yuck .. the first drag tastes of burnt jute .. Misers .. they can’t even afford to spend 10 bucks on a lighter !
9:07 AM: The burning end has almost reached the filter tip! And I have 100 meters to go. Yuck chick … why can’t someone tell her that she is not made to fit in those denims. When Mr. Lee and Mr. Levi made them they had the Size Zero in mind ..
9:09 AM: Aaahhh .. The metro station. That’s the cleanest part of Cal. Took them twenty years to build. And thankfully people have not turned it into a garbage dump. There’s no queue at the ticket counter. I take out a five rupee coin and decide to play carom with the guy at the counter. Flick .. the coin speeds across to him. With one finger he stops it. Then slides it to one side .. “ Four Bucks” .. He punches a few keys, plays carom with a one rupee coin and throws the ticket to me as if he has calling out “Rummy”.
9:10 AM: The metal detector cries for a policeman to come. Hmmm.. they would sell well as scrap. The access gate is working – and I am running down the stairs. The weighing machine is lit up with bulbs of various colors. Two bucks and see your weight. I was 62 a week back .. and I have been running for fifteen minutes instead of ten. Suddenly I feel lighter. ( Hey .. what about those 5 mangoes that have crept into your daily diet .. Shhhhh.. that’s a secret ! )
9:11 AM: The train comes in .. The doors slide open .. I move in .. listen to the sing song voice announcing the next station and drift away into the darkness along with the train.

Cal

Cal is a lovely city, but it is a city trapped in the memories of its past. The colonial hangover still remains and I daresay that if the Queen were to visit the city, her cavalcade would be greeted by a million people. One day, leaning on the railings outside Oxford Book Store on Park Street, I was puffing away to glory in the company of a dear friend of mine. Suddenly our eyes went up to a coat of arms on the shiny red board that had the name of the store written over it. In one corner, a coat of arms declared that the store was by some royal appointment to some XYZ who belonged to the court of the Queen. Sixty years after independence - and a bookshop proudly displays its English connections. I am no rabid nationalist, but it still rankles when we do not derive our identity from being Indian. And that too in a place like Cal.It hurts to see that this magnificent city is not able to realize its potential. A city of nearly a crore, but still not able to make it big in business. Any attempts at getting investors in are mismanaged by over zealous officials. The interesting part is that a lot of large Indian companies have a lot of Mr. Das' , Mr Chatterjees and Mr. Roys in their top ranks, but when it comes to working in Bengal they are paralyzed by lethargy and indifference.I have been born and brought up in Cal. I have seen the city transforming. But a few malls and multiplexes do not characterize the work ethic of a city. Wake up, wake up -- or you'll be left far behind the ambitious Ahmedabads, Chandigarhs and Punes. But when you do wake up and decide to do something -- don't lose your charm. Because that's what sets you apart from the rest !!

Dada

There is something special about him. Everytime he walks out to bat to the centre of the Eden Gardens he is greeted by a defeaning roar. A roar composed of voices of varying pitches that synchronize to set the stadium on fire. The din created is loud enough to be heard in the vast tracts of the Maidan that lie to one side of the Eden Gardens. Well, Sourav Ganguly does not have an unenviable batting record in front of his home crowd. It seems that the burden of 80,000 expectations does distract him. But the average Bengali is forgiving. He never loses faith in sons of the soil of the Hooghly. It is this faith that has kept the "Prince of Kolkata" going. It is this faith that has given him tremendous self belief and arrogance. And on the 8th of May it clearly showed.
Ganguly does not believe in mincing words - not even in front of the mighty Australians. He rubbished their strategy of mental disintegration and took the verbal duels to the Australian camp. He has a penchant for backing youngsters even in the face of stiff opposition from the mandarins of the game. He must be credited for bringing in some great players during his captaincy - Yuvraj, Harbhajan, Dhoni, Sehwag. He forced Rahul Dravid to don the gloves so that he could give depth to the batting line up. During his captaincy the Indian shed off the tag of "Tigers at home and mice away" to notch up some scintillating overseas wins. In a matter of years Team India had shed its fuddy duddy image to emerge as a strong force to reckon with.
Ganguly often uses his gut feel and intuition to take decisions. His 'devil may care' attitude helps him to trash conventional decisions. And yesterday he showed a glimpse of that. By the time the commentators had finished brainwashing the viewers into believing that the captain winning the toss should opt to field, Ganguly had walked to the pich , had won the toss and elected to bat - much to the disbelief of the 'pundits'. Well, thats 'Dada' for you. His 3 over spell brought back memories of his Toronto campaign where he had used him goldern arm to devastating effect. He choked the Royal Challengers with his deceptive pace and his celebration after having taken Dravid's wicket was a treat to watch.
Ganguly's resurgence may be a trifle late in the day for the Knight Riders but I do not care. As long as Dada keeps leading his 'black and gold' armoured army there is hope for me and also for the crowd of 80,000.